No Fairytale
by too-much-like-Luna
Summary: Harry/Snape. Sometimes you can't avoid learning more about the person you thought you hated. Sometimes you learn just how wrong you were. Harry Potter learns this when he is forced to stay in the same house as Snape.
1. After The End, Part One

_"Listen. To live is to be marked.  
To live is to change, to acquire the words of a story,  
and that is the only celebration we mortals really know. "_  
- Barbara Kingsolver  
_The Poisonwood Bible_

_After The End_

Sometimes, on nights when I can't sleep, I get up and look out the window into the moonlit night. On quiet, still nights it is easy to let my mind wander. These nights, when there is no one to witness, I allow myself to remember.

On some occasions I almost fancy I can look at the dark ground and see two figures there. Severus and Harry. Harry and Severus. It is a ridiculous fancy. It is a ridiculous story. Even I realize this.

But does the ridiculous beginning make the ending less serious?

Where _does_ it end?

Where does the story of the school Professor and his student, a greasy Death-Eater and the Boy Who Lived, begin and end?

There is so much history between the two, an author writing about them could go back generations and find ties between their families. When did the present become the past, the future the present, and the past un-important?

I can think about these things as I stand, looking out the large window onto the moonlit grounds when I can't sleep.


	2. The Beginning of the Beginning

**AN: **So yes, I have finally edited another chapter. It's shorter than I wanted, but the next will be really long, so I decided to cut it.

Throughout this story ~~~~~~~ will signify changes of POV, while ***** will signify different times.

***********

_Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all.  
Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness.  
Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again._  
- Stephen King  
_The Green Mile_

The Beginning of the Beginning

There is always a period, in war stories, where, though you know that it hasn't, the war seems to pause, and you must reassess your life. Severus, not having a particularly great affinity for war stories, had never thought of this before. He supposed that his period of peace (or what past for peace when you were spying on a megalomaniac wizard for another, quieter, though possibly just as megalomaniacal wizard) began not long after Dumbledore decided that during this period of uncertainty he should attempt to re-instate an ancient Wizarding Tradition. Using it, a mentor could offer an Apprenticeship in any career, with less paperwork to fill in but more responsibility. In rare cases it was also used for Engagements, but those had fallen out of favor long before the Tradition had. It was called Trouver la Trajectoire De Ton Vie, or, at least, now it was. It had had an official Latin name at some point, but it had been lost to Time even before the French attempted to reinstate the Tradition 323 years ago. Severus considered the new name something that sounded like it should have an exclamation point at the end of it, so absolutely ridiculous. Albus wanted to use the Tradition as a way to build ties between the generations soon to be victimized in a war they weren't ready for. The Dark Lord, naturally, agreed with him, and added his own special twist: all the Death Eaters should offer apprenticeships or engagements during the Tradition, which would forge an unbreakable bond between the two people that would last until the end of the contract. Severus enjoyed the irony of both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord using the same means to form bonds, and for nearly the same reasons. It was a rather weak sort of irony, but he had to take it were he found it, at times like these.

Potter, of course, being the quintessential Gryffindor, had been horrified when Snape had related this information to Dumbledore during an Order meeting. Snape supposed it should be surprising that he could still horrify the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die. If he hadn't been so tired, he might even have taken pleasure in the news. As it was, he could only feel a small amount of satisfaction.

"The Dark Lord has made it mandatory for all of his followers to offer some sort of contract."

"Who are you going to ask?" He would have known it was Potter even if he had mimicked Dumbledore's voice. Only Potter would jump straight to wondering which poor student was going to be subjected to the evil, greasy git of a Death Eater.

"I had not thought as far as that. The Dark Lord has no way of ensuring all the bonds are accepted, so I do not need to proposition someone likely to accept. It must, however, be believable that I would wish to offer them an Apprenticeship. Perhaps Granger, or there is a Ravenclaw prefect with a strong aptitude for Potions." It was a pity that Lucius had specifically told Severus not to ask Draco.

Albus nodded, and, as Potter appeared to be deep in thought (no doubt, Severus thought, trying to work his way through what he had just heard) no one else present thought it wise to offer an opinion. It really was fairly sickening how much they depended on the boy.

Albus wrapped up the meeting, and Severus left for some well deserved rest.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the Tradition thingy until Neville was offered an Apprenticeship with Professor Sprout. Neville was ecstatic, needless to say, and none of the boys in his dormitory could get him to shut up about the rules of the Tradition for days. The first two nights after he had been offered the Apprenticeship Neville even talked about it in his sleep. Seamus ( who was all out for the Tradition) Dean (who was almost as clue-less about the Tradition as Harry was) and Ron (who would talk to anyone who would listen about how stupid he thought the Tradition was, but always blushed and fell silent whenever Hermione was near) were quite impressed with 1. Neville's newfound ability to sleep-talk (Harry had pretty much had a monopoly on that one, except for the occasional nightmare talk from Ron) and 2, the fact that Neville could remember that much seemingly random information. Harry wasn't impressed at all with number one, because he was fully able to interrupt his own sleep without someone else doing it for him. When, on the second night after Professor Sprout's offer, Harry remembered that he was a wizard and cast a Silencing Charm on Neville's bed -- effectively cutting of his soliloquy on the proper way to accept an offer—it came as an immense relief.

Harry had Potions the next day. He was hopeful that the increase in his amount of un-interrupted sleep would allow him to concentrate properly... and perhaps manage not to drop something, explode something (usually his cauldron ) or just generally destroy something (e.g. his cauldron, a classmate's cauldron, his ingredients, Snape's robes, the Potions classroom, etc.)

Severus had often wondered when a Death-Eater stops being a Death-Eater. Is it as simple as renouncing their ways? As simple as feeling compassion, pity, even sadness, when you regard the person you are about to torture? If so, Severus was a Death-Eater for a rather short period of time.

But what if that's not it? What if one can only stop being a Death-Eater when the world no longer sees you as one? The public is not a forgiving entity, Severus knows, especially when they are trying to rebuild their world and they regard you as one of the people who destroyed it in the first place.

Or, perhaps, the way to redemption lies deeper. Perhaps the only way to stop being a Death-Eater is to stop regarding yourself as one.

As his N.E.W.T.S. students file into the classroom Severus considers how hopeless it is to even think of redemption. How can he begin to redeem himself in his own eyes if he is forever surrounded by people who think of him as a cruel, deplorable person? It is hard to feel good about yourself when you can see the loathing in any eyes that look at you. The Gryffindors in the group (the Granger girl and Mr.-Somehow-I-Managed-To-Pass-My-OW.L.-In-Potions-Even-Though-I-Never-Show-Any-Aptitude-For-The-Subject-In-Class-Potter) are the last to enter the room, Potter pausing to send a glare Severus' way. Much to Severus' disappointment, only Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had done Slytherin proud and progressed to NEWTS level in Potions. That meant that this week the class had only one Slytherin student, as Lucius had asked, and been granted permission to, take Draco out of class for a week. Though the boy had seemed to be resisting his father's wish that he join the Death-Eaters, Severus doubts that the boy will hold through the week.

Severus damns Dumbledore, and does not bother to mind his temper as the class starts.

Even with the extra sleep Potions class does not go well.

But only for Harry.

As Snape sweeps in with his usual dramatically billowing robes, Harry remembers the last Order meeting, Voldemort's reaction to the news that Dumbledore was going to try to reenact the Tradition, and the order he gave to his Death-Eaters.

Suddenly, the Tradition doesn't seem quite so amusing, and Harry is mildly annoyed by that. Wasn't there anything in his life that Voldemort couldn't ruin for him? Before, the Tradition had seemed like an amusing play, something to laugh at without actually having to participate in; something that wouldn't greatly affect his life.

Harry supposes he should have known better. He is Harry-Fucking-Potter, after all. No brain-child of both Dumbledore and Voldemort ever left him unscathed.

Then Harry grins, imagining what Snape would say if he voiced what he was thinking.

It was funny, in an odd way, but lately, as long as Snape didn't insult his parents, Sirius, Lupin or the Weasleys, Harry actually found some of his comments amusing. He supposed seven years of the endless torture they called Potions Class could turn anyone round the bend.

In fact, hadn't Hermione said something the other day about how Snape and Harry would make a wonderful couple if they just admitted the fact that they were passionately attracted to one another? True, Hermione might have said it just to steer the topic away from Quidditch, or just to watch Ron's reaction (which didn't disappoint, leaving their surrounding area liberally sprayed with partly chewed potato.) But still, if Potions class could make even Hermione feel the need to ease the tension after a lesson, you knew something was seriously wrong with the teacher.

Harry amuses himself for a few minutes, imagining Aurors coming to Hogwarts to arrest Snape, for such crimes as " Addling Young Minds," "Causing Teenagers to go Bat-Shit Insane" and, best of all, "Being a Bat-Like Git with An Odd Black Clothing Fetish and an Odd, Rare Condition That Causes A Person To Get Off On Other People's Pain." Harry had just got to the particularly nice part of his day-dream where the Aurors took Snape from the school kicking and screaming (not that Harry thought Snape would be likely to do that, it was just an amusing idea) when a voice speaks, right over his shoulder.

"Since Mr. Potter clearly assumes that he is above the trivialities that affect the rest of us poor mortals—such as the order to clean up his work space—he shall be given a detention. Perhaps an evening spent cleaning dried Flobberworms off desks and cleaning cauldrons will teach him that just because he is the Boy Who Lived," Snape says the hated nickname in a tone of distinct sarcasm, "he may not expect special treatment from everyone. Class dismissed. Potter, I'll see you at 9:00 tonight. Attempt to be on time."

After seven years of detentions with Snape, Harry knew better than to expect Snape to have been lying about cleaning Flobberworms off desks. Sure enough, the man opens his classroom door, gestures at the cleaning supplies, says "You know what to do, " and proceeds to sit down at his desk and start marking essays.

If Harry had thought Snape's treatment of him in his first few years at Hogwarts had been bad, it was nothing to how Snape had acted since Harry's little trip through his memories. Harry had hoped that by now Snape's grudge would have abated slightly. That was not the case. If anything, Snape seemed _angrier_ every time he saw Harry. Sometimes Harry was amazed by the man's seemingly limitless capacity to hate. The man could hold a grudge better than anyone Harry had ever met...except, _maybe_ Voldemort.

Which was rather scary, really.

Harry thinks about this as he cleans the desks, and, as he moves on to cleaning the cauldrons, thinks about how _still _Snape is, and how much he, Harry, must have changed over the years to be thinking about _Snape_. Just Snape, not how mean he was, not wanting to yell at him. Just Snape.

How could Snape be so still? How could he just sit there marking papers without even pausing to stretch a cramping hand muscle, or look up at the clock? Harry, who was used to having a part of himself moving at all times when awake, found Snape's stillness unnatural, distracting.

And, Harry thinks, you know you're bored when thinking about Snape is interesting.

"Potter, unless you are finished—in which case you are more than welcome to leave—you should not have stopped your work." Snape hadn't even looked up from the essays.

"I...uh..." Harry flushes red. "I... wanted to—er—apologize about the—ummm—Pensieve incident." Snape had stopped marking and looked up. Harry looks at the ground, unable to meet the man's eyes. "It was—er—wrong of me to look in it. I apologise."

There, he had _finally_ managed to say it. It had taken nearly two years and to be caught staring at Snape, to do it, but in the end he had. That was what counted, right?

Apparently not to Snape.

"You can not black-mail me with what you witnessed. Surely you do not believe you can?"

"What? Of course not! I'm not going to black-mail you! Even if I wanted to, why would I do so now after _apologizing_ to you rather than two years ago?"

"It is not up to me to determine how your brain works, Potter. You are dismissed."

Harry leaves, but he looks back when he closes the door. Snape was no longer marking papers. He was staring blankly at the wall in front of him, and looked very tired, and somehow, more human than Harry had ever seen him

The next day was the Saturday of a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry walked down to the village with Ron and Hermione, all of them—even Hermione—glad for the break. In fact, she was in such a good mood that she followed Ron and Hermione to Zonko's Joke Shop without complaining. Her patience wavered however when Ron and Harry started dueling with fake wands.

"I'm going to get a drink!" she finally cried, exasperated.

Ron immediately starts after her, and Harry, who, much to his shame, hadn't managed to squash his feelings of being a third wheel, tells him he would meet them at the Three Broomsticks later.

It was probably not the smartest thing he could have done.

**So, please review? They make my day. No, seriously. They do. Don't you want to make my day?**


	3. The Middle of the Beginning

**Author's Notes: I noticed that seems to delete the page breaks I had previously been using, so I switched them to the lines. The quote refers to Severus more than anything else.**

**The Middle of the Beginning**

Stitch in your knitted brow  
And you don't know how  
You're gonna get it out  
Crushed under heavy chest  
Trying to catch your breath  
But it always beats you by a step, all right now

Making the best of it  
Playing the hand you get  
You're not alone in this  
-Hope for the Hopeless, by A Fine Frenzy

"My Lord, we have the boy."

"Very good, Bella." Lord Voldemort's hand reaches down to pet Bellatrix Lestrange's hair. "You have put him in the dungeons, I assume, Lucius?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Perhaps your son would like to fetch him?" It is not a question, and Lucius knows it.

"He would be honored, My Lord." Of course he would.

Voldemort looks around the room. "Come here, boy."

Lucius' son moves forward. Voldemort does not know how Lucius managed to convince him to join the Death-Eaters before he graduates, nor does he particularly care. It would almost have been a shame to kill the boy. He appears to be the perfect balance of his parents, possessing all of Lucius' beauty and his mother's frailty. Narcissa has always seemed almost sickeningly malleable, especially when compared with her oldest sister, and the boy promises to be no different.

_Perfect, _Voldemort thinks. Lucius is getting old. He would need replacing soon. "Give me your arm."

The boy is not stupid, something he inherited from both parents. He gives his Lord his left arm, the one with the newly branded Mark, which is red and swollen. Voldemort can taste the pain the boy feels when he handles the newly marked arm.

The boy proves to be made of stronger stuff than his frame would suggest, managing to stifle his yell as Voldemort touches the Mark with one long finger. Voldemort can taste _and_ feel the pain as the muscles in the arm tense under his grip. He relishes in the boy's suffering.

"Go fetch Potter." Voldemort lets go of the arm. "The rest of your comrades will be here shortly. We must not delay their...entertainment."

Voldemort smiles, and the boy retreats, keeping his body bowed forward as he walks backward towards the door

Voldemort continues to smile. Lucius has taught the boy well.

* * *

Severus immediately knows it is an emergency. The Dark Lord knows it would look suspicious if Severus were seen running out of the school. The last time Severus had been called through the Mark during the day was the day James and Lily Potter died.

He wastes no time in informing the Headmaster. "Albus."

The Headmaster's face appears in the fire seconds after Severus calls him.

"Severus, is Harry there?" Albus' face is creased with worry.

"Potter? He is no doubt causing chaos in Hogsmeade with his Gryffindor cohorts as we speak. Why would he be with me? I'm being called, I must leave."

Severus turns to gather his mask and cloak, but Albus' voice stops him. "Severus, Harry hasn't returned from Hogsmeade. His friends came to me. They haven't seen him in several hours."  
"What do you wish me to do, Albus?" Severus turns to face the Headmaster again. He knows it is not a coincidence that the Potter boy has disappeared around the same time his Mark burned during the day for the first time in sixteen years.

"Don't let him die at the hands of the Death-Eaters. You know how to notify me of your whereabouts. I will be there as soon as possible. And Severus? I have reason to believe that Draco Malfoy has taken the Mark. Good luck." The Headmaster's head disappears.

If Severus was a more physical, extroverted person he would have screamed, maybe kicked something. He had had suspicions, granted, that Draco would succumb and take the Mark. But he had seemed to be denying his father, telling Lucius that he was sure he'd be of much better use to the Dark Lord once he graduated from Hogwarts. And besides, Draco had told Lucius, wasn't their graduating year the perfect opportunity to get closer to Potter and his gang of stupid friends?

The Headmaster had not seen fit to make an excuse for Draco to have to stay at the school. Severus had had no choice but to allow Lucius to take Draco to the Manor for a week, as Lucius had requested. To the Headmaster, Draco, son of a known Death-Eater escapee (and the one who currently had Fudge under Imperius) was useless. In the end, was there anything to be gained by trying to dissuade Draco from the path his father had laid out for him? The Headmaster threw away Draco's life.

_After all_, Severus thinks somewhat bitterly, _what worth had the life of another somewhat Dark Slytherin _child_ in the scheme of things?_

_Nothing_

* * *

Voldemort is in his element.

He sits on his throne-like-chair as the magically enlarged room is filled with his loyal servants. The new arrivals are quickly told about Potter's whereabouts by the Death-Eaters who had been present when he was brought in.

Voldemort can feel the nervous excitement, the tension in the room, and basks in it. He knows how quickly those emotions will change when he allows his followers a chance to play with his prey.

And then Voldemort will kill him, just as he intended too all those years ago.

He relishes the thought that, after the boy's death, he will have won. Dumbledore and his rag-tag band of wizards will lose hope quickly once their 'Chosen One' is dead. The Ministry is already under his command. The whole world will be his.

And all there was in between him and his goal was the Potter boy.

He would be taken care of. Very soon indeed.

* * *

Severus, following the pull from his Mark, Apparates just outside Malfoy Manor. He should have expected to be called here. But still, he must wait until he is within the wards and sure the Potter boy is in the Manor before alerting Dumbledore. He knows the rules. The specialized Tracking Spell Albus had cast on him (which will, once Severus activates it, make Albus feel a pull he can follow while Apparating, much like the Dark Mark) is only to be used if the Potter boy is captured. He cannot be sacrificed.

_At least_, thinks Severus, _not yet._

The wards surrounding Malfoy Manor are keyed to only let people carrying the Mark into the Manor whenever the Dark Lord is in attendance, so Severus gets through the gates without difficulty. It will be difficult for the Aurors and even Albus to break through. The Dark Lord isn't stupid, despite his increasing madness. He always protects himself well.

It is a short walk from the gates to the Manor, which is brightly lit, the fading sun directly behind it. It seems perfect, innocent, like something out of a fairy-tale. Severus has long ago learnt not to believe in impressions, surface pictures. It is why he's still alive.

He opens the front door. It is easy to locate where his fellow Death-Eaters are gathered. The noise draws him to the magically modified meeting room. The Dark Lord sits in the middle, surrounded by his minions. Severs carefully Occludes his mind, leaving enough carefully selected emotions and memories on the surface to hide the shield. He walks forward, careful to bow when he is ten feet away from the Dark Lord. He continues to walk until he is directly in front of his master. He kneels, kissing the hem of the Dark Lord's robe.

"Ahhh...Severusss. You have finally decided to join us?"

Severus keeps his head bowed in deference. It is a great honor to be spoken to by the Dark Lord. "The fool of a Headmaster kept me, my Lord."

The Dark Lord laughs coldly. "Of courssssse, my pet. He still believes you are loyal to him?"

It is the same question every meeting. It is always the same answer.

"Yes, my Lord. He becomes more gullible with every passing year. He seemed to think the Potter brat was with me. As if _I_ would seek out his company."

There, if the Dark Lord has Potter, he would take that opening to announce it.

"How...ironic, Severusss. In fact, the Potter boy is in Lucius' dungeons. We will deal with him as soon as Draco brings him in."

The news of Draco's loyalty was not unexpected, but Severus still feels a spike of anger. Likewise, the news of Potter's capture was expected, but Severus feels panic and hopelessness well up in his mind. He forces excitement through his shield. A true Death-Eater would not feel hopeless after hearing the news of the imminent death of the Boy Who Lived.


	4. Trap

**Author's Notes: Ever noticed how lots of authors write Christmas stories around this time that are filled with joy and happiness? Well, this isn't mine. It is extra long though, and introduces Draco's point of view (side note: I know lots of POVs annoy some people, but there will be less soon, and the ones that I keep will be there for a reason.)**

Harry manages to focus blearily on a pale, pointed face.

"Ferret."

"Potter."

A friendly greeting, for the two of them.

Harry has a not-entirely unpleasant feeling of surrealism. A part of his brain is aware that he should be afraid, that it is not a good thing to wake up in a cell with Malfoy glaring at him, but the other, larger part of his brain is groggy and only wants to sleep. The part of his brain that is aware of his surroundings and their implications is also waiting for Malfoy to make some scathing comment.

It doesn't come.

Malfoy opens the door, takes out his wand, and motions towards Harry with it. Harry feels a strange pressure, as though an invisible rope is tied around his chest and is pulling him forward. Part of his brain tries to fight against the pull, but it ends up being a very small part. He follows the pull past Malfoy, who remains silent, to the bottom of the stairs. Malfoy joins him, and then beckons Harry to follow.

They are half-way up the stairs when Malfoy finally breaks his silence.

"The Dark Lord was overjoyed to hear of your capture, Potter. So pleased, in fact, that he has promised his faithful followers a chance to... play with you." Malfoy does a brave attempt at his usual derisive drawl, but it doesn't quite work. He says it like it is something he had rehearsed specifically for times like these. Perhaps that is why Harry doesn't respond ... but it could also be because his brain—while becoming less groggy by the second—is still rather confused.

He had managed to remember being captured—that was, after-all, rather obvious, after waking up in a cell—but could not remember exactly _how._ He had been in Hogsmeade, alone, because Ron and Hermione were...somewhere...The Three Broomsticks, maybe, or perhaps Madam Puddifoot's. He, Harry, had left Zonko's to join them...wherever they were. Someone, --Bellatrix? Lucius? -- had grabbed him from behind. Harry supposes they must have knocked him out as well, though it must have been with magic because he remembers no pain.

"What, Potter, no angry words?"

Harry shrugs. "Who knocked me out? Your father or Bellatrix?"

Malfoy stares at him, apparently amazed that anyone would ask such a question after having been told they would die that night. "Aunt Bellatrix grabbed you, my father knocked you out." Even while talking about his father Malfoy's voice stays in a flat monotone.

Harry nods. The grogginess has gone, replaced by emptiness. He knows there shall be pain. After all, Voldemort will be there, intent on killing him.

They have reached a door. Malfoy opens it and pulls Harry inside after him.

As they approach Voldemort's chair Harry neither bows nor looks anywhere but at Voldemort. He does not look around the room, or at the Death-Eaters, who show their belief that this is the end of the Boy Who Lived by leaving their masks off.

And as Harry stares into the pitiless red eyes in front of him which gleam with triumph, he has to admit that they are probably right.

* * *

Draco is careful to keep his eyes down as he approaches his Master's throne. He has already learned that unless he wants the Dark Lord to look into his mind, it is better to keep your eyes downcast if he does not tell you to do differently. Draco can hear Potter's footsteps as Draco leads him to his death.

He's you schoolmate, a traitorous voice in Draco's head whispers.

_Not _mate.

You're only a couple of months older than him.

_He's a half-blood. _

So's Snape.

_And look at the treatment he gets from the Dark Lord!_

He's so young.

_None of us are. Not anymore._

And whose fault is that?

Draco does not allow himself to answer.

* * *

"Hello, Tom."

Harry's brain seems to have disengaged from his mouth. Even he isn't generally this cheeky around Voldemort.

"You are a foolish boy to speak my name, Potter."

Harry smiles. "Supposedly so, yeah. I've never exactly gotten punished for it though, have I?"

It is Voldemort's turn to smile. "That little discrepancy of my plans shall be remedied shortly."

"Really?" Mock curiosity positively _oozes_ out of Harry's voice.

"Oh yesss. I'm going to kill you. But, first, I think my Death-Eatersss deserve some entertainment."

"Funny, I never would have thought you were fair. But that is like...almost equal." Oh yes, his brain had definitely disengaged from his mouth. He wonders whether it's like a form of Occlumency. Then he wonders whether Snape is watching him, probably thinking something along the lines of "Stupid, foolish Gryffindor."

Harry realizes that Snape would be right. Oddly, his panic does not rise at the thought. He is surprised to find he _trusts _Snape, after all this time, but does not expect Snape to be able to save him today. It is reassuring, however, to learn that there will be someone to report back to Dumbledore, should he, Harry, die.

"I think a round of Crucios first. Not too much, I want you sane when I kill you." Voldemort's smile remains in place.

"Yeah, it wouldn't exactly be satisfactory if I wasn't even aware of you trying –_yet again_—to kill me, would it?" In another time and place, Harry might have stopped talking, but not now. His voice sounded bright, almost happy, contrasting sharply with the deep well of panic and sadness that seemed to have grown inside him in a second. Harry tries to remember, but, for the life of him (and Harry assures himself he did not intend that pun,) can't remember the last thing he said to Ron and Hermione. What if he died here, and the last thing he said to them was something stupid like, "Do I have spinach in my teeth?"

Voldemort ignores Harry, speaking over him to the assembled ranks of Death-Eaters.

"Which of you would like to go first?" In anyone else, Harry would have called the tone teasing, but with Voldemort it is obvious it is a rhetorical question. "I think perhaps...our newest member would like a turn..." and Harry knows who his torturer is going to be even before Voldemort gestures towards Draco Malfoy. For the first time since entering that room, Harry turns away from Voldemort to look at his soon-to-be torturer.

His year-mate.

* * *

Draco was six the first time he saw Crucio performed. His father had performed all the Unforgivables on Draco's cat, an adopted (by Draco, at least) stray. Draco had lured the cat out of the pantry, where it was kept to take care of the rodents, with scraps of food he had taken from the house-elves.

Lucius had not been happy to see the cat curled contently on Draco's pillow.

"This cat is not your pet," he had declared, and had, the next day, used the Curses on the cat to "show where such a common animal belonged." Lucius had told Draco the cat was not magical, and, as such, was given the worst job, and deserved the worst treatment.

It wasn't until years later that Draco learned his father hadn't been talking only about the cat.

Potter looks nothing like a cat. He looks very young, and very fool-hardy, standing in front of the Dark Lord and gazing at Draco.

Draco has never uttered the spell himself, but has known it is part of the Death-Eater initiation, to torture a victim. He wonders if that is all he will be asked to do before the night is over.

Draco has watched the effects of the Cruciatus curse often enough. He knows that once he raises his wand, points it at Potter, and says the unforgivable word, Potter will fall, writhe on the ground, and scream after he can hold it in no longer. Draco knows what true pain looks like; can imagine the look in Potter's eyes when all thoughts are eclipsed by the pain, the over-whelming need to have it over with.

Draco has seen the pain cause psychological trauma as well. He has seen grown men and women succumb to insanity, after only a few seconds under the curse, simply because the Dark Lord chose the torturer carefully, selecting one with personal ties to the victim. A family member, a loved one, or a person the victim trusted.

Draco _knows_ pain.

He moves forward, says the requisite "Thank-you, My Lord," bows and kisses the hem of the Dark Lord's cloak, before turning to face Potter.

Causing so much pain really shouldn't be this easy, thinks Draco as he raises his wand, pointing it at Potter's chest. Draco does not look his victim in the eyes as he utters the word.

Causing so much pain really shouldn't feel this good, Draco thinks. Power rushes through him, making him feel light, important, powerful, and oddly cold and detached as he watches Potter twitch on the floor in front of him, Draco's first human victim.

He had never really truly believed his father when he described performing an Unforgivable, Draco realizes now. A small part of him had wondered how it could feel _that _good.

After a couple of seconds the Dark Lord says "Enough for now, Draco," and Draco lowers his wand, cutting off the magic flowing through him. He immediately feels dirty for enjoying it, but tries to remind himself why he did what he did.

He deserved it, Draco thinks.

_How?_ The little voice in his mind asks.

He's a half-blood! He doesn't support my Lord's cause! He's unworthy to live!

_The Dark Lord murdered his parents. If your Lord's plan succeeds, all his friends would be killed, as would he. How would you feel in his place?_

It's different! I'm a pureblood!

_How does that change anything? The other side is perfectly accepting of all the blood statuses--if they support their cause. Why does your side only accept one kind?_

All other kinds are inferior? Shit, even in his head Draco can't keep it from being a question.

_Dumbledore's a pureblood. So are the Weasleys. Even _Longbottom_ is pureblood. Your own Head-of-House is half-blood, as is Rookwood._

So? There are good ones in every race.

_And bad ones in every race?_

The Dark Lord says, "How did that feel, boy? We can do that for hours, little periods of pain. It can take hours for the victimsss to go insane, using that method..."

Potter is standing again, regaining his foolhardiness. Draco can see his badly hidden surprise when the Dark Lord announces the name of Potter's next torturer.

"I think...next, Severusss, yes. He shall be given the honor of torturing you. You have been a thorn in his side for the passst seven years. I am sure he will enjoy getting his revenge. Isss that not so, Severuss?" the Dark Lord asks over Potter's shoulder, past Draco, to the man who has moved to stand at the front of the ranks of Death-Eaters.

"I shall enjoy it very much, my Lord. Thank you for this opportunity, you are most gracious." says Severus Snape.

* * *

It could, Severus thinks, easily be a trap. As a half-blood he is rarely granted boons, and he has certainly never been granted the same one as a Malfoy.

But even if it is a trap, Severus can see no way out of it. He had turned on the tracking spell as soon as he took his place within the assembled Death-Eaters. Albus, the Order, and hopefully some Aurors should be coming soon.

Severus has never before had the "pleasure" of torturing one of his students. Though he has often hated teaching, though he has belittled and quite often truly hated his students, Severus has never _actually_ considered using the Cruciatus Curse on any of them.

Except, _maybe, _Potter, after the boy went into the pensieve full of Severus' memories. Which _should_ make the torturing easier. The boy would hate him even more of course, but that was hardly a loss.

Severus hopes Albus understands, and doesn't fire him. He hopes Potter doesn't blab to the Ministry. For using Crucio Severus would probably be sent to Azkaban without a trial. The Ministry isn't likely to hold another one for a known Death-Eater.

Severus raises his wand and points it toward the Potter boy's chest. He does not look into his eyes, because he doesn't want to know whether the boy is afraid, angry, or—worst of all—compassionate, understanding. Severus can not deal with compassion, not from Potter, not when he's about to torture him.

It should feel wonderful, torturing the son of his school-boy enemy, but it doesn't. It is easy for Severus to put the rush of power and pleasure that comes after casting the Curse aside, for he has long ago grown accustomed to it. Harder to put aside are his thoughts, and the feeling that is near disappointment that he does not derive pleasure from torturing Potter's son.

The Dark Lord is watching the scene with satisfaction. Potter is writhing on the ground, doing contortions that Severus is quite sure he has never done before. The boy isn't screaming—not yet—but pained whines and grunts force their way through his lips.

The Dark Lord has a habit of "checking up" on Severus several times a meeting. When light Legilimency that carries the Dark Lord's magical signature brushes against Severus shields, he –by habit—checks them, making sure his shields are not obvious. He does not expect the force that builds behind the Legilimency, the Dark Lord seems to be using all his considerable power, and Severus is only too aware of just how weak his power is against his Master's.

Severus has not felt the true strength of the Dark Lord's power often. His Master has a habit of under-estimating those underneath himself. Severus has never had to maintain an Unforgivable and his strongest shields at the same time, and it is even more of a struggle than usual to not let any sign that he is thinking about hiding his thoughts escape under his shields. A thread of power goes through his shields, escaping them to fuel the Curse. Severus hides it best he can.

Severus feels disconnected from his body at the same time as he feels more connected to it than he usually does. It is as if his brain wants to split in two. One part is full of feelings of power, vindication, and the pleasure he is supposed to feel at torturing an enemy. That part creates a –hopefully undetectable—shield around the other part, which contains all Severus' true thoughts and feelings.

The power grows stronger. The only times Severus has ever been tried as hard as this were his initiation into the Death-Eaters, the two meetings after he began his duty of spying on Dumbledore, and the meeting after the re-birth of the Dark Lord, to which Severus had arrived hours late.

Severus can withstand the routine 'check-ups," he has put memories in boxes that can only be opened with an unrelated keyword, but the power the Dark Lord has at his disposal is truly terrifying, and much stronger than anything Severus can wield.

Severus has time to think, _it would be with Potter watching, _and to wonder vaguely how much time has elapsed since the beginning of the meeting, and how much longer Albus will be, before he feels the Dark Lord follow the trail of power maintaining the Curse underneath his shields, and break them.

_There was bound to be a trap you couldn't avoid at some point_, Severus thinks.

**It's Christmas. Doesn't that make you want to review? Please?**

**Also, since this website doesn't allow lyrics or quotes, I've had to discontinue my use of them. Which is sad. I spent a long time trying to find those. I like the all quite a lot. So I was wondering, just to appease myself, whether anyone knew of a site that is NOT livejournal or insanejournal where I could post this story as well, but with the quotes. **


	5. The End of the Beginning

**The End of the Beginning-Draco's Betrayal**

Harry can tell when Snape loses some sort of fight against Voldemort.

His first clue is that the overwhelming pain stops.

Then Snape falls to his knees on the floor, face screwed up with pain, and to Harry it looks as if Voldemort is ravaging Snape's mind.

Voldemort jumps out of his chair, glee replaced with maniacal anger on his face. Harry scrambles to his feet, ignoring his trembling and sore muscles as Voldemort stalks toward Snape.

Voldemort seizes a handful of Snape's hair and turns him to face the Death-Eaters. Snape seems to come back to himself and starts to struggle fiercely, but Voldemort has his hair wrapped around his and so tightly that Snape seems unable to gain any ground.

Voldemort thrusts Snape's head forward. "You see before you a traitor!" Voldemort snarls, and disbelieving murmurs rise up from the Death-Eaters.

Voldemort turns half-way towards Snape, and his voice lowers, until it's almost seductive, but the rage concealed within it sends shivers down Harry's spine.

"Severusss, my little ssssnake, little traitor. How long have you been playing at being the double sspy, I wonder? You know what I do to traitorsss, don't you? I think we'll change it a bit tonight, though. By the time we're done with you, you'll be begging for the punishment traitorsss usually get. Tonight, little Ssseveruss, you will share the same punishment as the 'Boy Who Lived.' Consssider it an honor, Severusss. I could have killed you outright."

It is odd for Severus to realize that he no longer has to bow and thank the Dark Lord for the "honor." It has become ingrained as a habit. Severus has the ridiculous thought—obviously brought on by pain—that if it weren't for the Dark Lord's hand in his hair he would bow and thank him anyway.

Which would definitely be humiliating.

A traitor's punishment is usually a curse designed by the Dark Lord himself. It cuts away layers of skin one by one, leaving the victim incoherent with the pain all over their body. If the Dark Lord is feeling particularly merciful he will stop the curse after his amusement fades somewhat, and he will cut off the victim's limbs, and then let the victim bleed to death.

Severus has seen it happen. Images of those times haunt his nightmares.

His fellow Death-Eaters are angry, jeering at him, all except Draco Malfoy, who is staring at him, wide-eyed and pale.

Severus' mind is working in over-drive, trying desperately to think of a way to escape. He can feel the devastation the Dark Lord has left of his shields, and a head-ache that had formed as soon as the Dark Lord broke into his mind keeps getting worse. He can't rely on Albus to get him through, considering how long it has apparently taken him to get through even the preliminary wards.

Severus has the uncomfortable feeling that he's out of luck, and is going to fail.

But he dismisses it.

Harry has no idea of what's going on. Voldemort is talking, clearly angry at Snape, but Harry doesn't hear the words. He finds that he was less afraid before, when he knew what to expect (face Voldemort, probably get hurt, almost die, but find a miraculous escape plan—with luck.) Now Harry can't even be angry at Snape for torturing him. It is sort of pointless, being angry at a guy who is likely to die any moment. Harry supposes this puts an end to all his debates about Snape's loyalties.

Voldemort pushes Snape so that he falls to the floor, facing Harry. As Voldemort strides back to his chair Snape looks up. Snape's face is carefully guarded, but when he meets Harry's eyes his mask trembles, just for a second, but long enough for Harry to see the pain and grim resolve in his eyes. Voldemort speaks, and Snape's walls come up once again.

"My _loyal _servantsss," Voldemort says, standing in front of his throne and spreading his arms like a benevolent king. "I shall give you a chance to torture the traitor in your midst."

Harry tries to find something to say, but his cheekiness and foolhardiness seems to have left with Snape's cover.

"Avery, Crucio Potter. Lucius, Snape."

The two Death-Eaters walk forward, Avery's face alight vindictive glee, Lucius Malfoy's impassive.

Voldemort sits back to enjoy the show.

Albus Dumbleore isn't a man given to excessive bragging, but he has to admit that he is a very gifted wizard. One of his (many) specialties is wards – both their making, and their dismantling.

One learnt things during a war, after all.

Albus hadn't been expecting much of a hardship getting into Malfoy Manor. He had expected Voldemort to be too sure of himself to consider putting many wards up.

He had underestimated Voldemort's strength and paranoia.

Lucius' Crucio is weaker than what Severus knows he can produce, but he's hardly going to complain. Avery's Crucio is very strong, according to Potter's screams, stronger and more desperate than they had been towards the end of his torture under Severus' wand.

There is no way to tell how long they are under the Curse, because even ten seconds under it feels like an eternity, but eventually the Dark Lord tells the two torturers to stop and switch victims.

If nothing else, Severus has to get the boy out. The dunderhead is important to Albus' plan.

Lord Voldemort is angry.

To think that _Severus_ had been the spy...

He would pay. The Dark Lord looked forward to it. He would show his followers what happened when Lord Voldemort was betrayed.

It would be very nice to see Severus beg.

Harry is no longer aware of who is torturing him, only the breaks in between the bouts of intense pain. He suddenly becomes aware that not surviving this encounter with Voldemort is more than a mere possibility. It is now a very real probability.

"Enough," Voldemort says, and Harry becomes aware of how cold the marble floor is under his twitching limbs.

"Severusss. I have decided on another punishment for you. Would you like to hear it?"

Snape doesn't move, but Voldemort carries on regardless. "First, I shall tie up the boy," Voldemort turns to Harry, flicks his wand, and Harry is suddenly thrust against the wall, hands and feet manacled to the marble as though crucified. Voldemort turns back to Snape and continues. "And then, I thought, I will take advantage of the fact that I have already broken your mental shieldssss. Do you know how much pain I can cause you ussing only my mind, Severusss? After that we shall move onto more...hands on formsss of torture. After all, we musst pleasse my followersss, and Crucio engagess only one of the watcher's sensess. They boy can watch it all, and know what shall happen to him once you are dead."

Severus knows what he has to do: Stay alive until Albus makes it through the wards. That should ensure the boy's life.

Severus finds that he is not afraid of the prospect of his own demise. He faces the possibility of death very time he answers the Dark Lord's call, after all. Now, facing Death straight on, he does not feel fear, or anger. It is often the unknown people fear, or leaving their loved ones, when they think about death. Severus has faced the unknown daily, never knowing if it would be the day of his death. He has no loved ones, and he has been prepared for death ever since he joined the Death-Eaters.

There are things he wishes he could have done, wrongs he feels he hasn't atoned for, but maybe by dying to save Potter (and thereby—according to Albus—the whole world-as-they-knew-it) he could absolve a bit more of his guilt.

Harry watches in horror as Voldemort turns his wand upon Snape, whom Voldemort has spelled to make him kneel, and say clearly "Legilimens."

For a moment nothing happens, but then Snape's mask crumbles in pain. Snape screams, and to Harry it is one of the worst sounds he has ever heard. His scream is hoarse, depserate, and pain-filled, and it sounds as though it was wrenched from the depths of his soul. It goes on, and on, and on.

Harry struggles futilely, looking around desperately for help, but the occupants of the room are all focused on the terrible violation of the man in front of them, all except one. Draco Malfoy's eyes meet Harry's, filled with revulsion, horror and panic.

Harry takes a chance and mouths "Help me get him out" to the blond boy. For a second it looks as though Malfoy will ignore him, and Snape's scream continues to rend the air. The sound seems to decide for Malfoy, and he nods sharply in Harry's direction.

If Harry wasn't tied up watching a mass murderer torture his teacher he might have been surprised at Malfoy's help. As it is, he can only feel a grudging feeling of thankfulness.

Draco has absolutely no idea what he's doing. He just knows that it _feels _right. Later he will think of consequences. Later he will question his actions. Right now, he flicks his wand and releases Potter from his bindings, spells a fire to life in the ancient, priceless tapestries behind the Dark Lord, then pretends to be just as panicked as everyone else. Right now, he only feels determination.

Albus had expected to see many things when they finally broke through the wards, but the Death-Eaters in uproar, Harry crouched over Severus' form laying on the ground, and various black-clothed figures trying to put out a large fire in the tapestries was not one of them.

"Stun anyone you can get!" he tells the Head Auror, who nods and passes it along.

Harry crouches over his Professor. "Sir? Can you hear me? You need to get up, Professor! Oh God. Please, Professor. Can you hear me?"

Snape doesn't respond, even when Harry touches his shoulder. "Please, Professor." Harry's embarrassed to hear his voice break. "Professor, come on. Dumbledore's here now. Dumbledore'll get you out. You're safe, Voldemort ran away, you're safe. Please respond."

**Author's Note: You know that somewhere, deep, deep down inside yourself, you really want to review this. I think this is the last chapter where the POVs will change every other paragraph... in fact I believe the next chapter is purely Harry. I'm still looking for suggestions of sites that are NOT insanejournal or livejournal where I can post this with quotes.**


	6. After the End, Part Two

Author's Note: We're actually getting to the plot now, I swear. The whole Voldemort scene sort of got longer than I thought it would....

**After The End**

Their story started nicely enough. In different circumstances their story may have resembled a fairy-tale. If their story was a tale in a book, you would expect the Tradition to force the two heroes together. You would expect Harry to become Severus' Apprentice, for the forced proximity to bring them closer to each other.

In truth, the Tradition had very little to do with their story. It now seems insignificant, merely the first unusual happening before everything changed.

Their lives have never resembled fairy-tales.

The night air is unusually cool around me, and still nothing besides me stirs. It is a night meant for pointless thoughts.

I hate it.

Their story is one of so many inconsequential things that, sometimes, I hardly recognize it. I live in the here and now. We live their story, yet have now moved on to the epilogue. Their part is the climax, the pivotal part. We do not need to remember everything to be able to live with the events that transpired. They are a part of us, and everyone is a part of their story. I do not have to remember those events to live with the events that only happened because of their actions.

There are so many details in their story that I am quite happy to only notice the details in this time and place.

But I can't sleep, and it's a cold, still night, so as I look onto the grounds I allow myself to remember.


End file.
